The screen was on, adverts for stuff I’d already bought strategically flickering around the edge. Jeeze! I’d only looked at that mealworm site for a mate. Now, squirming little beggars wriggled all over the right-hand-side.

I walked to the open window as the church clock struck. I counted, absentmindedly. “One… two… three…” The church was no longer used for prayer. “Seven… eight…” Second-hand luxury cars one side, homeless shelter t’other.

“Time for Wheetie-pops!” screamed the screen. I pushed the Off button.

“Shut up. “Eleven… twelve… thirteen… “

George Orwell come true or just the moon pulling away from Earth?

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